


Cute

by dxnise



Series: Chances/Odds [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Backstory, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Confusion, Coupzi, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Heteronormativity, JiHan if you squint, Jicheol, M/M, Middle School, Pure Children, Slow Burn, Why Did I Write This?, by popular demand jk just 5 people but i have low standards, don't attack me, how do I tag without spoiling, im sweat a lot every time i post, lol im never gonna be good at tagging i just, noona story + jicheol being clingy bus buddies, ok this is clickbait they dont really cling in this but, pls try to enjoy, possibly inspired by ofd2, seungcheol is the noona so noona pov i guess LOL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 05:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dxnise/pseuds/dxnise
Summary: Seungcheol doesn't expect it to go beyond a pitying smile and a couple of band aids.Or: the middle school bus jicheol au everyone was waiting for but nobody's writing fast enough for my liking.(the backstory to 'Disgusting' but they're both stand-alones, and the order you read it in doesn't necessarily matter)





	Cute

**Author's Note:**

> \- i'm back sooner than expected  
> \- pls read the ending author's note after you're done, even tho if it's long  
> \- Jicheol ghostwrote 'cute' by stephen jerzak for each other  
> \- i listened to it on loop so this wouldn't be angsty from start to end since i'm a natural angst writer peer pressured by tree and a bunch of other people to not write angst HAHAHA  
> \- hope it lives up to expectations bc this is even more stressful to post than the first one :(

Since young, Seungcheol has always been taught the importance of looking out for others. Be it through his parents' incessant nagging or the old-school comic books he collects, he's been taught that he needs to protect the weak, promote good over evil, and be strong, to earn his superhero cape.

 

Of course, Seungcheol is 12. He's essentially a teenager now, and _obviously_ , he's old enough to know that superpowers don't actually exist. 

 

That doesn't mean a boy can't continue hoping hard, or harbour his secret dreams.

 

So Seungcheol can't lie and say it isn’t a letdown when his eventual shot at being a superhero, _doesn’t_ involve explosions, an evil mastermind, or an epic sword fight.

 

What he does end up with is a boy with the softest of features – slightly chubby cheeks, the tiniest of eyes, long unkempt fringe wet with what seemed to be sweat, his skin a ghostly shade of white.

 

Nobody likes being alone in the toilet with a stranger, not especially when they're looking down seemingly in pain as if they've just been _stabbed_.

 

For a moment, Seungcheol wonders if the boy really is a ghost. He can't pretend that his heart isn’t beating a bit faster at the mere _thought_ of it.

 

It's 8PM, nearly too late for a young boy to be alone in the school toilet, face soaked presumably from a quick wash at the basin, a wince apparent on his face.

 

Seungcheol will admit, albeit reluctantly, that just minutes before, he was taking a rather loud and long poop. It’s strange then, even worrying, that the boy hasn't shown any sign of noticing his presence yet.

 

In fact, it doesn't make any non-supernatural sense that Seungcheol didn't even hear the boy come in. The dump wasn't _that_ satisfying. He wasn't that distracted. He must have heard _something_.

 

_Oh my god! He must be a freaking **ghost**!_

 

Seungcheol mentally replays all the Taekwondo moves he just learnt at practice earlier. Boy, was he ready to run!

 

Gosh, he even has an _escape route_ planned – a direct dash straight out through the only door of the room. Nothing fancy, but it's enough to get him out of this place and that's what _matters_.

 

Seungcheol doesn't end up succeeding, because it's at this precise moment that the boy looks up.

 

A few things happen at once after that: an exchange of embarrassingly shrill shrieks, then a scramble of fast movements from both, followed by lousy attempts to recover from the initial shock and lost composure.

 

The only redeeming factor in this all-round clumsy, spectacularly embarrassing _failure_ of a social situation was that at least he wasn't the only one who full on freaked out.

 

At this point, Seungcheol can pretty much confirm that the boy was very much human. An especially soft one, in an almost other-worldly sort of way, but human nonetheless.

 

Seungcheol notices, for it's hard not to, that the other boy is fumbling around in uneasy fashion, his actions skittish and fidgety, as if he's trying to hide something.

 

In his unreasonable bouts of fear earlier, he failed to notice that the boy is in the school's basketball jersey.

 

_He's in the basketball team?_

 

The jersey looks pretty ridiculous on the guy, to be frank. There are a few things Seungcheol could compare it to – a younger sibling being forced to wear hand-me-downs or even a dog being forced by a dumb-witted owner to wear an oversized glittery tutu. Realistically, he knows they probably ran out of sizes, and he was the pushover that just accepted whatever was left. 'Ji', as it said on the back of his jersey, was practically drowning in the outfit and it was laughable, but also kind of cute.

 

There's always been something about small things drowning in big clothes that people find adorable, isn't it? Seungcheol wants to know the science behind it.

 

What really drew his attention though, were the boy's bloodied knees that he caught a good glimpse of while he tried to turn away from Seungcheol.

 

Before Seungcheol had time to stop and contemplate his options, he hears himself ask, "Hey, are you okay?"

 

The boy face immediately flushes a shade of shamed red, and he manages to weakly respond with a simple, "Yeah."

 

He's so _shy_. And saviour complex or what not, Seungcheol feels an inexplicable draw towards 'Ji', a burning need to protect the helpless boy.

 

So yes, it's a little out of character, and it's easy to accuse Seungcheol of being a busybody, but he approaches the boy, holding him gently by the shoulders to properly examine the state of his knees without his resistance.

 

The injury is bloodier up close, and both his knees are scraped through and through. Seungcheol promptly ignores the flickers of panic that flashes across the boy’s face at the sudden action.

 

"This isn't 'okay', Ji." Seungcheol glares a bit, in a chiding, concerned manner, while pointing at his knees. It's about as firm as a 12 year old could be. Honestly, Seungcheol thinks he deserves brownie points for trying.

 

"How do you know my name?" The younger boy's voice is a bit lower than expected, and though nearly inaudible, is brimming with a childish, innocent charm.

 

"Your jersey."

 

There's a pause then, and the basketball player looked so sheepish, so _scared_. Seungcheol thinks he might have came on a bit too strong for a first-time encounter. But those knees couldn't have waited though, he tells himself.

 

"Have you washed it yet?" Seungcheol tries to ask kindly, softer this time.

 

"Yeah. But it's not working." The boy seems to be letting his guard down a little, nearly as if he's accepted that Seungcheol was here to stay, Seungcheol was here to help, Seungcheol _cared_.

 

And he was right.

 

Seungcheol sits down on the toilet floor. It's not the most hygienic or conducive of environments to administer first aid, but he doesn't want to waste time.  Opening a compartment in his bag, he grabs a few tissues.

 

"Sit down with your knees up. Keep these there for a while." Seungcheol instructs while pressing the tissues against the wounds.

 

"What's your full name?"

 

"Jihoon."

 

"You're a year one? I've never seen you before."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Oh. I'm in year two."

 

So they sit there for a while – Jihoon holding onto the tissues and Seungcheol staring at his red eyes. Jihoon had been crying.

 

"What happened?"

 

He doesn't exactly expect a response, but nothing about their meeting has been predictable, and so he smiles a little when Jihoon _does_ tell him.

 

It's brief and vague, but Seungcheol is glad that Jihoon is willing to tell him anything at all.

 

"I had my first basketball practice. I decided to run after. I'm clumsy. I don't know what people do when they get injured." His sentences were choppy, nearly as if he wanted to keep them as short as possible, and keep the attention off him.

 

"Why were you running alone?" Seungcheol probes, and he watches as the boy visibly clamp up.

 

"I wanted to get fitter." He says nothing else, and that shuts Seungcheol up.

 

It's uncomfortable and tense now, and Seungcheol wishes he hadn't asked. He tries to salvage the situation, shifting the attention away from the obviously sensitive topic by lifting out the band aids he always kept a huge stock of in his bag – no matter your age, Taekwondo was brutal.

 

Jihoon winces, his nose scrunching up in pain as Seungcheol carefully applies the band aids to both his knees. He stares curiously as Seungcheol then proceeds to search for something else in his bag, his face turning confused when the older boy grins and holds up a marker.

 

"Don't cry anymore." Seungcheol is firm, and he hopes smiling is infectious, because he puts on the widest smile, so wide that his dimples show, a radiant sight.

 

Radiant enough, apparently, that Jihoon's sadness disappears nearly entirely, a small smile creeping onto his face. Soon, he's smiling just as wide, a light dusting of the faintest of blushes on his face again.

 

So Seungcheol may have done something stupid, like draw smiley faces over the band aids, but hey, it worked.

 

"It's late. We should go. How are you getting home?" Seungcheol asks while helping Jihoon up. His heart is beating a bit faster as he holds onto the smaller boy, and he doesn't quite understand the feeling. It's one he's never felt before, and yet it feels somehow right.

 

"Bus."

 

"Oh? Me too. Let's go."

 

They wordlessly walk out of the toilet towards the direction of the school's main entrance. It's darker than expected, and Seungcheol can't help but puff out his chest with the _slightest_ bit of pride when he notices Jihoon inching just a bit closer to him for safety. He likes to think he's tall and big and strong enough to protect Jihoon from everything. And thank god for the dim lighting, else Jihoon would have surely noticed the awkwardly pleased and triumphant expression on his face.

  


When they arrived at the bus stop, Seungcheol finally takes a good look at Jihoon again.

 

He notices the little details, like the adorable way Jihoon feet dangles, not nearly reaching the ground as he sits at the bus stop seats. He notices how his oversized jersey nearly covers the now smiley-faced-adorned band aids, the smiley faces peeking out from under the basketball shorts.

 

He notices how pale Jihoon's skin was, a startling juxtaposition against the evening sky, yet stunning all the same.

 

He's aware he's staring, but that's okay, because Jihoon hasn't noticed. Instead, Jihoon's attention is focused on examining the smiley faces on the band aids, an unreadable expression on his face.

 

The sight somehow sends a stirring in Seungcheol's chest. He wonders if it's normal to feel that way, or if he's about to pass out right there and die of an unknown disease at the tender age of 12.

 

There's not much to be said, and Seungcheol doesn't attempt to make conversation. It's been a long and exhausting day for both of them, probably in particular for Jihoon, and it's somehow more satisfying for him to just soak in everything Jihoon.

 

The bus is rather empty on the top deck and Seungcheol slides in easily at his usual window seat.

 

Jihoon pauses there for a moment, seemingly hesitant to sit next to Seungcheol at the double seats. Seungcheol can't deny his _disappointment_ when Jihoon doesn't, choosing to keep a distance from Seungcheol by instead sitting in front of him.

 

As if in a silent apology to make up for his painfully obvious shyness, Jihoon turns around quickly to face Seungcheol, starting a conversation for the first time thus far. "Where are you getting off at?"

 

"4 stops from here. You?"

 

"6 stops."

 

"Oh that's cool. My friends live further away so their parents drive them to get to school." Seungcheol says, face turning into a grimace, "I'm alone on the journey to and fro from school."

 

"Me too."

 

It's then when Seungcheol hears the slightest of rumble's coming in the direction of Jihoon's tummy, and Jihoon looks so self-conscious and dismayed by what just happened that Seungcheol has an unjustifiably strong desire to _hug_ him.

 

Jihoon must have expected a mocking laugh, but instead, Seungcheol begins to dig furiously into his oversized, bulging bag in search of something, and there's pride in his face when finds it, handing Jihoon a box of Pepero.

 

Jihoon's face goes through a quick succession of changes in emotion. He's clearly relieved at Seungcheol's lack of teasing jabs at his empty stomach, touched at the gesture and yet amused, his tone is incredulous as he questions, "How do you fit so much in your bag?"

 

Seungcheol laughs out at that, "I have everything in my bag. Have you tried this one before? It's the best Pepero flavour in the whole world!" There's an overwhelming amount of certainty in that statement. It's enough to make any sceptic believe in the greatness of...

 

"Strawberry Cheese Melon? That sounds gross!" It's a question laced with _judgement_ and _horror_ , and Seungcheol is taken aback because this is the loudest Jihoon has spoken so far, in stark contrast to his previous want to be inconspicuous.

 

Seungcheol takes full offence to that as he pushes the sticks towards the doubtful-looking boy. "Try itttt!"

 

"We're not even supposed to be eating in the bus!" Jihoon counters firmly (yet cutely, Seungcheol notes), dodging his suggestion entirely.

 

Seungcheol isn't about taking no for an answer apparently, because he stuffs one of the strangely coloured biscuit sticks into Jihoon's mouth, and with utmost care, holds Jihoon's chin up so Jihoon had no choice but to bite down on the stick. 

 

It's probably an inappropriate act, and a _major invasion of personal space_ , but somehow Jihoon isn’t as focused on that as he should be, almost as if he strangely finds it normal for Seungcheol to be touching him like he's something to be cherished and protected.

 

They're pretty much strangers, and this should be weird.

 

Conversely, to Jihoon, the bigger problem at hand seems to be Pepero itself, his face immediately turning stormy. Urgently, he reaches for the bottle in his bag and drowns down an abnormally large amount of water.

 

"That was so… **bad**!" Jihoon's face is full of regret and accusation, but he doesn't seem to hold any anger towards the perpetrator. In fact, he seems, dare Seungcheol say, endeared by the knowledge that Seungcheol has a... How should he say this... _A unique little quirk of eating a rare and supposedly bad flavour of Pepero?_

 

It's not a bad flavour, by the way. It's _fantastic_ , and Seungcheol thinks he will be fighting the haters of his beloved snack till the day he dies, Taekwondo kicks and all.

 

Seungcheol wants to stay and talk to Jihoon more, but he notices his stop approaching, and so he hurriedly stands up, says to Jihoon 'goodbye' and 'take care of your knees'. The polite, usual thing to do.

 

Just as he's about to move off to go down the stairs of the bus, he feels the softest of hands reach out to grab his arm abruptly, and he turns around to a once more fearful and hesitant Jihoon.

 

Jihoon is breathtaking, but he's even more so when he looks Seungcheol straight in the eye, "Your name?"

 

Seungcheol doesn't have time to process it all at once – the fact Jihoon hadn't known his name the whole time and he's been _wondering_ and _wanting to know_ , Jihoon's face, Jihoon's voice, and the _way_ he asked for his name. He's going to miss his stop, so he pushes that aside, puts on the calmest of smiles he can manage, tells him his name, and with that they part ways.

 

Perhaps it's wishful, wishful thinking, but he hopes that the lights in the bus were dimmer than they looked, because he's pretty sure his face is burning. He knows he's being unreasonably bashful over the other boy. 

 

As he walks home, he thinks a lot about Jihoon. It's stupid, so very stupid, to feel the way he does. And yet, he can’t help but feel like it’s somewhat similar to the superhero movies he's watched, when the hero saves the girl and they fall in love and they end up together by the end of film.

 

Is that what this was? This love thing? The word feels confusing, foreign against Seungcheol's tongue. Seungcheol might have ‘saved’ Jihoon, but Jihoon isn’t a girl. So it isn't possible, right? A boy saving a boy and being together? It's not right, not the way things normally were? But surely there must be exceptions, since Jihoon wasn't just a boy either, he's _better_. Jihoon can't _possibly_ be real, even if the pounding in his heart is unfortunately so.

 

Engrossed in his thoughts, Seungcheol doesn't look back to catch the way Jihoon looks out of the window fondly as the bus drives off his stop, his sights focused only on one boy, his fingers grazed over band aids covering scraped knees.

 

/

 

They don't see each other in the next few days, presumably because of the differing training schedules for Taekwondo and Basketball. At least that's what Seungcheol hopes, instead of the alternative explanation that Jihoon is taking a different route to school just so that they wouldn't be caught on the same bus.

 

Nothing has changed, really. Seungcheol doesn't see Jihoon round at school in the same way that he previously hadn't.

 

But that doesn't stop him from constantly looking around, in search of an ethereal, beautiful boy.

 

That doesn't stop him from neatening his fringe at every possible moment, just in case Jihoon looked his way when he isn't noticing.

 

It's happens finally during lunch. Seungcheol is seated with his closest friends in the school, Jeonghan and Joshua, when he pretty much chokes on his bento box when he catches a glimpse of Jihoon.

 

Jihoon is holding his food in unassuming fashion, sitting down with two other boys at a nearby table. Though a distance away, Seungcheol can tell that he still has band aids on. 

 

He feels like he's about to combust or do a victory dance on the table when he notices, notices how Jihoon actually drew the _same sloppy smiley faces_ on his band aids.

 

It's at this moment that Jeonghan looks at Seungcheol with a genuinely curious expression on his face, and asks, "Why are you staring at the Jihoon guy?" and Seungcheol's head snaps at the mere mention of Jihoon's name. "How do you know his name?"

 

"He's one of the newbies for Basketball." Jeonghan shrugs, and Seungcheol makes an O-shaped with his mouth in understanding. 

 

So he may have forgotten that he's friends with the upcoming basketball star, but it's easy to forget how athletic and skilled Yoon Jeonghan actually is, especially when he's just about the laziest person Seungcheol knows when he's not on court scoring for the school.

 

He can’t stop himself from probing for more about Jihoon from Jeonghan, and Jeonghan looks a tad suspicious about the whole thing but answers anyway, while Joshua stares curiously at the boy that has suddenly become the talking point of their group.

 

"He's been getting wrecked at every single training by the coach and his batch mates. He's the slowest runner and he treats the ball like it's a dying puppy or something. Definitely not gonna make it to school team at this rate. Well, I heard he's some sort of math prodigy, so at least he doesn’t suck at everything." Jeonghan says with a hint of pained guilt, as if he doesn't know how to help the guy. It's sympathetic, yet not in a condescending way, as Jeonghan continues with his initial question, "So why are you staring at him?"

 

Seungcheol keeps his answer vague, because Jihoon feels like a precious secret he doesn't intend to divulge and share with anyone else. He takes special care to keep his words even and calm so as to avoid any further interrogation, "Saw him in the toilet the other day and was wondering how the tiny guy even got into the team."

 

It's not a lie, it's just not a proper rundown of what happened.

 

He may have just conveniently left out the more vital details, like how Jihoon had been crying and Seungcheol turned his frown into a smile by drawing dumb smileys on Jihoon's band aids, how he forced fed Jihoon some Pepero, and the most pressing of all issues – the way Jihoon has penetrated his every thought ever since.

 

It's still not a lie. But he thanks god that he doesn’t have Pinocchio’s wooden nose.

 

"Doesn't explain the way you're creepily smiling and staring at him from afar, but okay I guess." Joshua injects knowingly, and Seungcheol hates his friends for being so observant.

 

"So how's it going with Nayoung recently? Is she still leaving you a bunch of post-its every week?" Seungcheol changes the topic abruptly, and Jeonghan kind of rolls his eyes a bit at that, "Yeah. Nayoung's nice but I don't _like like_ her in that way so hopefully she gives up soon."

 

Joshua seems smug upon hearing Jeonghan's words, and Seungcheol wonders for a moment if his projected fantasy of a boy and a boy together living happily ever after isn't so crazy after all, and might not even be limited to just him and Jihoon.

 

Maybe it's more common than he thinks, and maybe he'll be able to ask them someday. 

 

He supposes none of them would have the answers, supposes adults would brush them off and say 'You'll understand when you're older', but Seungcheol doesn't want to _wait_ till he's an adult.

 

He attributes this impatience to the fact that, try as he might, Seungcheol somehow can't imagine his story ending with anyone else.

 

/

 

Seungcheol is glad he's always equipped for emergencies. Emergency situations that involve bumping into Jihoon again at the same place.

 

It strikes Seungcheol that it's been exactly a week since their first encounter, and Seungcheol can feel himself get a little dizzy at the mere thought of talking to Jihoon again.

 

Through the glass portion of the door, Seungcheol can see that Jihoon looks destroyed once more, both physically and mentally, and it takes him a ridiculous amount of courage to open the toilet door and walk straight up to the boy.

 

"Hi." Seungcheol says, as he waits for the boy to look up. Jihoon isn't wearing band aids anymore, and much to Seungcheol's relief, the injuries on his knees, at the very least, look much better. 

 

"Feeling better?" It's a redundant question, nearly rhetorical, since it's clear that it’s not the case.

 

Jihoon looks surprised at his sudden appearance, though Seungcheol notes that the initial surprise seems to be coupled with some signs of feeling comforted.

 

"Not exactly." Jihoon doesn't lie, and Seungcheol takes that to be a symbol of trust. At least he didn't find Jihoon bleeding or crying this time. ‘ _Progress!_ ’, his inner optimism tells him.

 

Seungcheol gives Jihoon time to collect himself. He watches as the smaller boy slowly washes his face once more, looking at Seungcheol after he's done, before saying simply, "Let's go home."

 

Between the two of them, Jihoon's the apparent math genius, so Seungcheol nearly asks Jihoon to check, because he _swears_ that his heart skipped a good 2 or 3 beats at Jihoon's words.

 

Weird jittery feelings aside, Seungcheol declares once more that it's a good thing he's always prepared.

 

It's a good thing, seeing as they're on the bus now, and in attempt 2.0 to impress slash feed Jihoon, he whips out another Pepero box from his school bag. It's a brilliant endeavor this time, as he watches Jihoon's face light up instantly with unfiltered innocence.

 

"Vanilla is my favourite!!" There's a blissful joy to his voice, and there's even a crazily cute _eye smile_. Seungcheol soaks it all up, and commits it to memory. It's a sight to behold.

 

Jihoon reaches out for the white coated biscuits excitedly, but Seungcheol is a boy of stubborn pride, and so he figures he could have a bit of fun with Jihoon, "Not until you acknowledge how delicious Strawberry Cheese Melon is."

 

"What! Never!" Jihoon spits out, pouting ever so childishly. The boy may be 11, but from the way he was frowning so heavily over a box of Peppero, he looked half his age, and Seungcheol decides right there that it has to be, without a doubt, _the cutest thing he has ever seen._

 

He should persist, get the much-craved validation of hearing Jihoon declare the flavour delicious, but Seungcheol finds his resolve crumbling ever so quickly, and unknowingly, he gives in to Jihoon.

 

"Fine." Seungcheol says, once more stuffing Pepero into Jihoon's mouth. Jihoon doesn't even try to resist, but finishes the biscuit quickly, looking satisfied. Different flavour, yet the same kind of feeling.

 

Force feeding is now officially their thing now, apparently.

 

In his head, Seungcheol sets up a list of things he wants to remember. Jihoon's eye smile is the first thing that comes to mind, so he hopes his parents don't question the influx of Vanilla flavoured Pepero in his house.

 

_Maybe he’s just opening up to other flavours, okay?_

 

They're on the first level of the bus this time, since Seungcheol's parents are waiting for him at the bus stop for a family dinner out. Much to his initial chagrin, Jihoon still doesn't sit next to him, but Seungcheol knows that he has to wait to slowly close up the gap between them.

 

Good things come to those who wait, right? Superheroes always have the best timing, don’t they?

 

Jihoon manages a shy 'good bye' as Seungcheol gets off the bus, instead of a dramatic wrist grip like the first time around.

 

Seungcheol points out Jihoon to his parents, mouths some words to them that Jihoon obviously can't hear through the bus windows, but Seungcheol is waving hard at Jihoon, and so are his lovely, kind-looking parents.

 

So Jihoon can't help but put on a smile of similar intensity, waving back as the bus drives off, forcing a physical distance between the two once more.

 

"New friend? I've never seen him before." his mother asks with a chuckle.

 

Seungcheol has been _bursting_ with the want to tell everyone how amazing Jihoon is, and so he fails to contain his excitement as he blabbers out the content of their conversations, "He's Jihoon. He's a year younger, and he's in basketball! He doesn't like Strawberry Melon Cheese Pepero though, or anything cheese for that matter. Isn't that sad?"

 

His parents give each other a look that Seungcheol can't decipher, his father reaching out to ruffle Seungcheol's hair, "Guess we'll be seeing a lot more of him then. Basketball? So Jeonghan knows him?"

 

"Yes!"  


It's cheeky, and a bit uncalled for, but Seungcheol's mother jokes, "He's cuter than Jeonghan though."

 

Seungcheol doesn't deny it, nodding in response. It makes him a bit of a lousy friend, considering he's known Jeonghan for over a year now, and Jihoon for a grand total of 7 days, but he's not one to mess with _facts_!

 

Jihoon is definitely cuter than Jeonghan. Jihoon is cuter than anyone he's ever met. 

 

He doesn't know what to do with this new knowledge, that all the girls in school pale in comparison to the light Jihoon emits. Doesn't know if it's normal, or acceptable, and how his parents would react if he tells them the Jihoon's the first person he's put his superhero cape on for and he hopes he's the last.  


"Maybe you can invite him over someday."

 

Seungcheol must have looked way too happy at that statement, seeing as how his parents looked thoroughly entertained at his reaction. There's also a glimpse of worry in their faces, but it's too temporary, too fast a change for Seungcheol to pin down the cause of, or even be certain if it was there at all.  


He's glad then, that his parents just ask, "It's a name we've got to remember then. His name's Jihoon right?"

 

Has Seungcheol ever mentioned how much he loved his parents?

  


/

  


It becomes a routine.  


Every Wednesday night, they 'bump' into each other in the same toilet after practice. They walk to the bus stop to get home. Sometimes Seungcheol's parents would be there to wave Jihoon goodbye just like the second time. Sometimes, only the two of them are around to witness the development of their sort-of-friendship.

 

It becomes clear at some point, that their run-ins are far from coincidental. One time, Seungcheol even catches Jihoon standing over the same basin looking bored, nervous and even the slightest bit restless.  


Upon realising Seungcheol's presence, he pretends to look busy, as if he hadn't clearly been waiting for Seungcheol to appear and suggest that they go home together.

 

Seungcheol doesn't miss the suppressed elation in Jihoon's face, nearly as if Jihoon is grateful that he hadn't been 'stood up' for their 'meetings' of sort.

 

Another time, Seungcheol doesn't even bother faking it anymore. Taekwondo training was cancelled at the last minute, so he stayed behind to watch basketball practice with Joshua.  


He ignores Joshua's incessant remarks, ignores his jabs about Seungcheol’s 'sudden supportiveness towards Jeonghan's basketball career'.

 

Thing is, Seungcheol is curiously excited to see Jihoon play. Jihoon has told Seungcheol during their bus rides that he's been steadily improving at basketball - his extra runs and effort finally beginning to show.

 

Seungcheol sees that now. Jihoon's size means agility is his strength, and while his defending skills still amateurish at best, his ability to think and move fast proved a great advantage.

 

The moment Jihoon catches Seungcheol's eyes at the benches though, is when things pretty much go downhill. 

 

It's clear Jihoon's flustered. Nearly instantly, Jihoon loses the ball he was dribbling, and the coach yells at him to "Wake up! Focus!"

 

Jihoon doesn't get hold of the ball at all in the subsequent remainder of the game. He's zoned out, a panicked mess. His movements have turned sloppy, losing precision. 

 

Upon the end of the match, Jihoon gets called over, obviously for a lecture by their unforgiving coach. Seungcheol watches as Jihoon walks towards the tall, burly man, with fearful hesitance yet some sort of brave understanding that he has to suffer the consequences of his mistakes.

 

Seungcheol leaves immediately after that. Jihoon wouldn't have wanted him to see that, and Seungcheol is really just a softie at heart who can't bear to see anyone yelling at Jihoon.

 

Seungcheol regrets coming, because as they made their way home that day, Jihoon barely looks at him, looking ashamed and afraid of Seungcheol's judgment and view of him.

 

You are your harshest critic, Seungcheol remembers his mother telling him, and he supposes this is exactly what she meant, for he sees within Jihoon a burning amount of self-loathing and embarrassment, but the way Seungcheol sees him is instead of an individual worthy of admiration and respect.

 

Jihoon really is human. He has doubted it, numerous times, even after seeing him bleeding and crying that one time. Jihoon's a bit too good for this world, and Seungcheol has, a few times, considered reaching out to check if Jihoon's heart truly beats the way other kids do.

 

He might not be that special visibly, but the way he makes Seungcheol feel is special and new and a first, and so that has to mean that Jihoon is a lot more special than anybody else, right?

 

Now, having seen Jihoon mess up and fail at something with his own eyes instead of it being just hearsay from Jeonghan, Seungcheol is jolted out of his fantasy and image of Jihoon as being untouchable.

 

Jihoon really is human. He's just as prone to feeling and failing and everything in between just as much as Seungcheol is. It's a realisation that knocks Seungcheol off his feet a little, because the knowledge that Jihoon wasn't a perfect, little fragile gem needing of protected somehow makes Seungcheol like him more.

 

He sees a Jihoon that's flawed and real. And Jihoon must have a resilience of pure steel that nobody really credits him for. It must _tough_ to keep going at a sport when it's not at all your forte. Seungcheol can't say he understands, not when Taekwondo comes to him easy as breathing, but Jihoon's persistence is one that seems so unlikely of a petite boy, and Seungcheol is in awe.

 

All this time, Seungcheol had this idea that he was saving Jihoon, but while Seungcheol did sort of help Jihoon along the way, he's also starting to understand that Jihoon isn't a damsel in distress. Jihoon would have saved himself with or without Seungcheol. Jihoon probably doesn't need Seungcheol's, in spite of the tears he shed with or without Seungcheol watching.

 

But he's rooting for Jihoon to succeed, to become more confident, simply because Jihoon _deserves_ it for his determination.

 

So he tells Jihoon, "Good job today", and he makes sure to put the most amount of sincerity he can into his words, and he hopes Jihoon believes it.

 

Jihoon clearly doesn't, and it makes Seungcheol's heart sink the tiniest of bits.

 

He doesn't want Jihoon to give up though, so even though Seungcheol may not understand why Jihoon became so anxious when he's there, it's probably better for everyone's sake that that was the first and last time Seungcheol goes down to see 'Jeonghan' (Jihoon) play.

 

However, it's not the last time Seungcheol waits to pick Jihoon up after basketball practice. In fact, Seungcheol makes it a point for them to not 'bump' into each other in the toilet anymore, rushing to finish after Taekwondo so that Jihoon wouldn't even have the chance to go to the toilet without first meeting Seungcheol outside the indoor basketball court.

 

Jihoon's always the last to leave the place, and so Seungcheol fortunately escapes having the explain to a nosy Jeonghan and Joshua why he's waiting alone outside the basketball court every Wednesday.  


Like every week, Jihoon still manages to look surprised, as if he can't believe Seungcheol's still bothers with him, and it's heartbreaking because Seungcheol thinks Jihoon deserves much _more_ than he can give.

 

When Jihoon walks out all sweaty from his extra laps this particular week, he pauses upon sees Seungcheol standing there again. In that moment, it must have finally sunk in that Seungcheol's actions weren't out of patronising pity, because Jihoon’s next action catches Seungcheol off guard completely.  


He moves closer to Seungcheol in a hurry, as if he doesn't want to leave time for second-guessing and regrets.

 

It takes Seungcheol a good few seconds for certain things to sink in; for one, Jihoon is hugging him, actually hugging him, his body softer than Seungcheol could have ever guessed.   


It's the first time he's shared a hug with a boy. It should be weird, he should be shouting 'cooties', but it doesn't. It's Jihoon, and so even if this was the grossiest, sweatiest hug he'll probably ever be caught in, it seems natural.  


By some involuntary action, Seungcheol freezes, his hands falling limp and useless at his side. His heart is beating so quick, and probably out of utter shock, he can't get his useless arms to hug Jihoon back.

 

Jihoon probably takes Seungcheol lack of reciprocation as plain rejection. No longer does Seungcheol feel a soft body pressed against him, and Jihoon walks slowly ahead as if wanting to will away a regretful mistake.

 

Before Seungcheol can say anything, he hears a low voice behind him call out, which sends both boys turning around, appalled at the sudden appearance, "What are you boys still doing here? Get home quick, and rest up well. Lee Jihoon, I'll see you on Friday!"

 

"Yes, sir!" It's a unified response, both boys a little grateful that Jihoon's coach had good timing, and hadn't caught them just mere seconds before in an awkward, one-sided bear hug.

 

As the sound of the coach's loud footsteps fade, Seungcheol takes the chance to close the gap between the two of them.

 

The tables are turned now. Seungcheol is the one wrapping Jihoon in an embrace, except it's tighter, more certain. At first, Jihoon doesn't respond, but Seungcheol hangs on anyway. In fact, he reaches out to press Jihoon's head so it's leaning against his broader, taller shoulder.

 

When Jihoon doesn't move away, and actually snuggles up closer into the hug, it's a symbolic enough of a gesture for Seungcheol to know that Jihoon likes him.

 

He doesn't know what kind of like specifically, doesn't know anything going on in Jihoon's brain, but it's clear that they're both happy now, and that's enough for Seungcheol.

 

That evening, as they're on the bus, Jihoon tears down one of the walls separating the two of them.

 

It's a scene he wants to commit to memory, when Seungcheol is holding his breath staring up at Jihoon who has yet to take a seat in the bus, Jihoon's eyes shifting around in deep contemplation, and finally.

 

That evening marks the first time Jihoon takes his place in the bus right next to Seungcheol.

 

That night marks the first night Seungcheol finds himself praying a lot of prayers, relying helplessly on the occasional shooting star, that it won't be the last time.

 

/

 

Jihoon and Seungcheol don't ever talk about it. They don't ask for each others' house numbers, don't ask to meet the others' friends, don't ask for labels of 'friend' or something of that sort. It seems superfluous, considering the ambiguity of their bond and relation.

  


In fact, nobody really knew that they even knew each other. After all, they barely saw each other in school. A fairly popular year 2 in Taekwondo and a shy, nerdy year 1 in basketball. Their paths would have never crossed, if not through a meeting of pure chance, an odd circumstance.

 

That's not to say that they were hiding or keeping their 'friendship' of sorts a secret. There was just nobody to tell, and no necessity to.

 

It's a simple kind of relationship, really. Seungcheol goes out of his way to make Jihoon smile, and Jihoon tries to return the favour occasionally. Nothing beats having his company, and Seungcheol tells Jihoon that all the time.

 

They're too young to understand anything, and what it means and implies when you tell someone, "I like spending time with you and you're the only person I want to give everything I have to."

 

They're clearly too young to know, especially when a statement of grandiose and intensity like that one is answered with an easy, crooked grin, "Me too. I'll let you eat my food, and I don't let anyone else eat my food."

 

They don't see the need to think further than that.

 

It probably doesn't mean anything when they sometimes hook pinky fingers while they're on the bus. Jihoon full on held his hand at some point. It made them both blush, but Seungcheol squeezes his hand in return to tell Jihoon it's okay.

 

They talk about everything, even coming to a conclusion on one of the weeks, that the superhero doesn't always have to end up with a victim. Maybe two superheroes could end up together. Maybe everyone is some sort of superhero in their own way.

 

It's nothing but some foolish words and meaningless actions strung together, child's talk and child's play, isn't it?

 

Adults might shake their head, say 'young...', but they don't finish the statement. Not out loud anyway, but perhaps in a shamed whisper. _It can't be it, if it's two boys._

 

They just say 'they didn't know better'.

 

/

 

It's Wednesday again.

 

Jihoon and Seungcheol should be on the bus together, on the way home. Just like how it's supposed to be, just like how it has been.

 

Yet, Seungcheol is alone this time. Jihoon hadn't shown up for basketball this week. Jihoon's coach stares at him a little strangely today when he bumps into him after training. Jihoon's coach knows that Seungcheol waits for Jihoon every week, so Seungcheol can't fathom why the coach has a surprised expression on his face to see him there.

 

Nothing, however, can quite beat the amount of surprise Seungcheol feels when he steps off the bus, feeling more worn out by the lack of Jihoon's regular company than Taekwondo itself, and the said boy is the first thing he sees.

 

What's more, Jihoon is talking to his parents, shy and polite as per usual, and Seungcheol interrupts their conversation with a casual tap on his father's back.

 

"Jihoonie, what are you doing here?" Seungcheol asks, and his parents faces immediately darken with some sort of unsettling melancholy upon realising his arrival.

 

_What's with adults and their sad faces today? What's going on?_

 

"Cheol hyung ah. These are for you." Jihoon stands up, passing him a large bag of Pepero. "Eat well."

 

His parents must have sensed Seungcheol's shock at the abrupt gesture, and they must know something Seungcheol doesn't, because they're offering to buy back dinner so the two of them could be left alone.

 

"Stay here okay. We'll be back soon." Seungcheol's parents always gave him a lot of freedom and trust. Seungcheol doesn't know if he deserves it, but he fully appreciates in moments like this.

 

"Jihoonie, why didn't you go for training today?" Seungcheol's tone is tense, scared. He can feel that Jihoon's response isn't going to be anything good.

 

"My mummy has work stuff... so we're leaving Daegu for Busan this Tuesday night."

 

There's a long pause, and for the very first time, Seungcheol finds himself not wanting to look at Jihoon. "For how long?"

 

"Forever... I guess." Jihoon's voice sounds _pained_ and Seungcheol can't bring himself to cry at the sound of it, even if it's all he wants to do.

 

Forever is a long time. Even with his patience, Seungcheol doesn't know if he can stand to wait so long.

 

His mind is a frenzy of feelings now, but one thing stood out the most, it hits him, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts:

 

_Jihoon's never coming back._

 

"When did you find out?"

 

"Last week."

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Seungcheol is angry now, glaring cruelly at the guilty-looking boy. There's blame and betrayal in his eyes. He's never been angry at Jihoon, not once, but it's not everyday Jihoon springs an unwarranted announcement on him. He's angry, and he wants Jihoon to know and feel all of it.

 

And as with all things Jihoon, his anger doesn't last, nothing does. Jihoon has crawled his way into Seungcheol's life and with each encounter, he’s given him something _new_ and _different_. Nothing negative can last around Jihoon, and perhaps that's why Jihoon is leaving, because he's been told time and time again that he has to cherish the good, because _nothing good lasts_.

 

But Seungcheol _can't_ , can't stay angry when Jihoon looks him dead on and whispers out in a helpless voice, as if he knew Seungcheol would react this way, "I wanted us to go home together happily one last time, okay?" 

 

The admission makes Seungcheol guilty. It must be harder for Jihoon than for him, to leave behind everything he's familiar with to go elsewhere. Yes, Seungcheol is losing Jihoon, but Jihoon's losing everything he's known, all at once. So even if Seungcheol thinks Jihoon is everything, he probably can't even comprehend the pain Jihoon must be facing.

 

If this is the last time he'll see Jihoon, he wants Jihoon to remember him in a positive light, hopefully as a semi-dashing hyung who he likes dearly. He knows he'll remember Jihoon as many good things.

 

So Seungcheol tries to be the mature one, act his age, be the gentleman he's always been to Jihoon. He accepts the Pepero with a half-hearted thanks, making sure to pull Jihoon into a bone-crushing hug. 

 

Seungcheol is too young for permanent goodbyes and he doesn't quite know what forever really means. He hopes the hug will do the talking, hopes Jihoon can feel everything he feels, hopes Jihoon feels the same.

 

That's all he can do anyway - _pray_ and _hope_ and _wish_.

 

Seungcheol only lets go of his younger friend when he realises they're both staining each other’s shirts with a ridiculous amount of tears. When he whips out tissue packets from his ever-bulky bag, Jihoon can only snort and laugh through his tears.

 

It sucks really, that Seungcheol has pretty much everything in his bag except a way to make Jihoon stay.

 

/

 

Back home during dinner, Seungcheol's parents offer him some patronising words.

 

After all, there's a limit to what you can say to your 12 year old son who has just parted ways with a friend that somehow seems to mean more to him than you can understand.

 

Nonetheless, they're are words that somehow stay with Seungcheol for a very long time. He doesn't know why those words hit him so hard. 

 

"If it's fated and meant to be, you'll see Jihoon again."

 

He doesn't even really know what fate is.

 

_What is fate, and why is it ending Seungcheol's story for him?_

 

/

 

It's not until Seungcheol is 16 that he realises certain things.

 

He understands what fate is now, and frankly, it's a load of bullshit. It's as good as Santa Claus and Unicorns. Myths and lies parents tell their children to keep them from crying.

 

He also realises that he doesn't have to be with a girl, he can be with a boy. It's less common, for sure, but Seungcheol lost his first kiss to a boy last week and when he told Jeonghan and Joshua about it, they didn't look too phased.

 

Seungcheol concludes then, that it's possible to possess the capacity to _like like_ boys in that way, and he has had that capacity for a very long time. He mustn’t be the only one who has come to the conclusion, because people talk about it more these days, about how marriage should be an option for a boy and a boy, and a girl and a girl.

 

At the heart of it all, Seungcheol's epiphanies all seem to come down to the same boy. A boy that took a short but important part of childhood with him when he left.

 

Once more, Jihoon has become somewhat of a ghost to him. As the years go by and Seungcheol is forced to move on and move forward, the pain slowly lessened. They were so incredibly foolish, they hadn't even thought of exchanging numbers or some way to keep in contact. 

 

So Jihoon disappeared entirely from Seungcheol's life as if their paths never crossed.

 

Eventually, he gets used to being alone on Wednesday evenings, the memory of Jihoon eventually gradually becoming so faraway and fleeting that Seungcheol sometimes wonders if he made it all up.

 

_Was Jihoon even real?_

 

Then, Seungcheol brushes away that idea. He may no longer remember vividly, in exact detail, the way Jihoon's hand feels, or the quiet whimsicality of Jihoon's voice, or the size of Jihoon's basketball jersey. But he can remember every emotion he felt around Jihoon, maybe even more easily than before, now that he understands what those emotions mean. He can identify them and explain them, put a name to them.

  

He confirms it all the day he told Jeonghan and Joshua about his first kiss, and he decides to tell them too, everything about a Jihoon from those years ago.

 

They remember Jihoon too, so he must be real.

 

Jeonghan and Joshua both seemed a little taken aback by their friend's sudden outpour of emotions. There's a superficial sadness in their eyes, the kind you muster up when you want to empathise but it's not anything you've experienced, the kind of 'aww' you sound out at the tragic conclusion to a romance movie.

 

"So Jihoon was your first love." Joshua asks, only half-jokingly.

 

"Love?" It's an unexpectedly shaky word on Seungcheol's lips. 

 

Love's a strong word. So Seungcheol could have downplayed it and denied it, should have.

 

But Jihoon _gave_ him a lot of his firsts, made him _feel_ a lot of his firsts.

 

Seungcheol decides then, that it'd be unfair to discredit his feelings over something as arbitrary as age.

 

So he smiles a wistful smile, accepts it, and tries again, "My first love? I guess you could say that."

 

Jeonghan pats him then, but Seungcheol isn't exactly sad or in need of the comfort.

 

In fact, he’s _happy_. He's happy, that some years back, he got to feel such simple, pure love. The kind some people never get to feel in their whole lives. Jihoon is probably happy too, wherever he is, and so for that, it would be unreasonable greedy for Seungcheol to feel anything but contented.

 

"Maybe fate will bring you guys together someday." Joshua adds reassuringly.

 

_Really? This again?_

 

He keeps his tone nonchalant and dismissive, plays along with Joshua's clichéd statement that he's heard far too many times before.

 

"I hope."

 

There’s nothing else he could have done or said, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> \- i'm sorry. if you read 'disgusting', you knew this would end badly, but i hope overall, this AU managed to stir a warm feeling in your heart, seeing how the huge time gap between the stories has managed to change so many things, yet the parallels remind you that some things just, never change. ironically, this was less funny/fluffy than but i suppose it's precisely bc they're kids that it's a blur of pure, uncensored emotion as opposed to more witty/outrageous/self-aware. coming of age tale, people!  
> \- at least that's what i was going for? idk if i was successful with my 11 year slow burn HAHAHA.  
> \- FEED ME COMMENTS/FEEDBACK. TELL ME YOUR FAV BITS!! due to my crippling insecurities, external validation makes me feel more motivated/confident to write. thank you to everyone who left comments the previous time, you really did make this one happen :D  
> \- can you believe someone actually did fanart for this i'm so touched and it's...cute ha ha. go hype it!! :,) https://twitter.com/orangejellyace/status/881831106219188225  
> \- on a lighter note: do you think cheol's parents knew they first met their son-in-law-to-be when cheol was only 12 years old? (⌒‿⌒)


End file.
